Carry On
by Cait Corbett
Summary: Sometimes it's best not to know - for within the knowing and enlightenment comes damnation. So just carry on. OC.


Hello. Short story. Based on some FFVII stuff. OC. Kinda sad, was in depressing mood. Hate it, like it, might continue it. Depends on reviews.

Don't own FFVII or any of its characters/themes. Don't make money from this. Just for kicks.

And so on...

To say the world had lost its vibrant taste and radiant air would be painting it in rainbow shades of amber, while in reality, it was masked in tones of black and white. Even the gray seemed obscure and distant. The lines were stretched oblong and twisted like something from nightmares - that broke traditions of a waking rational world.

* _She'd never seen him turn some a palor, a nearly ashen grey to match highlights of his hair, and disturbed from the rational emotion of child witnessing disrought parent, she was unaffected. It seemed to matter little when the doctor told them she was dying (something from the inside was, slowly but surely) - the world around them was dying anew. Everything was destined to die, and, that made it alright. *_

The noise - the chanting. Whatever tongue it was wrapped in, accent it was drenched in, it was _all_ the same blasphemy. It came at her, in four directions, in a world painted in black. It sprayed at her like water, doised her, attempts to baptize her with sweet holy water.

* _She was a crack-shot with anything that fired, and this Reeve discovered much to his distress as he were pelted relentlessly in the head with a magnificently-crafted sling-shot and pebbles by the five-year old sniper scoping him at any chance. As she grew he discovered little bits and memoriable peices - often he found her tucked away from others her age in some dark little corner, comfortably reading. Others she could easily be reckless, action before thought - and thus made him quite curious as to where such a character trait could've come. *_

Everyday dripped away as surely as water from a leaf - and it did rain much more these days. Often, days like this, he wouldn't so much as look at her. He was getting old, so, so old, and she still somewhere around eighteen and not a candle added for at least five years. And yet here came the enevitable end to a curious existence galloping fast with swiftly-braced legs and hooves and a steaming snout. She watched it approach.

* _There were times at night when Reeve was home for more than a week, when two voices would mingle from one in hushed arguing. It was Reeve who most often rose to such a pitch of swift speech that roused a curious little girl, who'd tip-toe down hallways and peer through cracked doors, heart thumping. Like a game, and as always, whoever Reeve had been arguing with moved from sight, with hardly her eyes focused on it's tall back, the wrap of a cloak and gone, leaving her step-father where ever he might've been - sitting, standing, or readying to strangle, agape and turning to the door, as if he knew she were there. *_

It all started one day, nearly ten years ago, when she'd gone to town with him. He'd only just gotten a kink in his back, causing him to slouch forward, and some local boys had swarmed to rob him blind, since news of an ex-ShinRa employee spread quickly. One came at her from behind, and in one blazing instant, like blinking in fire, the next moment they were all dead in the most gruesome, horrifying ways. She'd remember that day forever, the kind of fear he wore as he shakily packed up, and they moved. Another town. Another year.

* _She used to be afraid, because her eyes would bleed uncontrollably and Reeve would strap her down onto a old medical gurney he aquired, somewhere along the times of his secret job. What passed during that time was unknown to her, only she woke bloodied and sore, bruised with freshly broken and immediately mended bones, ripped and restored tendons and muscles and Reeve could be there in the corner, pale, thin and sickly, as though he'd seen the Devil himself. *_

She had to admit, she was afraid - she stopped eating, couldn't hold food without wreching (which was fine because he had stopped eating as well, pouring down bottles of cheap whiskey instead),and curled into a corner, a well-shaded spot between her bed and the wall, and watched the sky through the window. Her head was growing weak, but refused to settled as the very distant, very bright moonlight broke between the clouds for the first time in weeks and settled into a milky glow. It's light quickly became overwhelming and her eyes started to drift shut, heady and weakened, dazed and watching with such a disembodied feeling as the moonlight was blocked away by something earthly, the tinker of broken glass quickly following.

* _There was this one time that she dare ask who her real parents were. Many children were orphaned over the past years but at -least- knew their parents sometime. Reeve had looked very grave and patted her resolutely on the head, for a moment appearing though he may avoid the question entirely and thought better of it, simply answering, " Your better not knowing, " *_

Reviews are greatly appreciated. Go ahead... leave one. Dare you.

-CC.


End file.
